Reaching Out
by Tintavy
Summary: Fragments of life after Natalie, as seen through Sara's eyes. Spoilers up to and including GB&GL. GSR if you squint.


Reaching Out

**A phone call**

"Hello?"

A pause.

"Hello?"

A longer pause.

"I'm going to hang up now."

Dial tone.

**A letter**

"Dear Ms Sidle" – crossed out.

"Dear Laura" – crossed out.

"Dear Mom" – crossed out. Scribbled. Torn.

Paper: binned.

**A note**

Sara,

Soup and a sandwich in the kitchen for you.

Back soon,

Gil

**A letter,**

"CSI Sidle,

With regards to your request concerning more information on our patient Natalie Davis, we regret to inform you that no further information may be released to you at this time without a court order or warrant. However, please find enclosed a copy of our visiting hours that you might-"

Jagged rip. The rest missing.

**A phone call**

"Hello?"

A pause. Two people breathe in each other's ear.

Hang up. Quick.

**An e-mail**

To: "Sara Sidle"

From: "Greg Sanders"

Subject: We miss you!

Hey you,

You planning on getting off your ass to invite us round for a movie night with you and loverboy any time soon? (And the image of Grissom as a Casanova is not one which I'm happy about, by the way!)

If not, then get a move on, or we'll do it for you – and there's no telling what we might be interrupting!

Seriously, we all miss you loads, and can't wait till you're back. D

Love you,

Greg

**A letter**

Dear Sara,

Can't you see that I miss you too?  
Sara

**A phone call**

"Hello?" Weary now, tired of the game.

Nothing.

"Look, whoever you are, this isn't funny. It's not scary, it's not funny, it's not intelligent – it's a silent phone call. That's all. So why don't you just-"

"Mommy?"

Heartbeat. Then: "Sara? Baby girl, is that you?"

Sob. Hang up.

**A message on an answering machine**

"Hey, honey, it's me…I'm just, well…I guess you're still asleep, or in the shower, or- Well, whatever. Call me back, OK?"

**And another**

"Honey? Where are you? Just- Just speak to me, Sara. I love you."

Rewind. Play. "-Me, Sara. I love you."

**And another**

"Jesus Christ, Sara, where the hell are you? I'm coming, Sara, I'm on my way, I'm coming…"

**A letter**

Sara,

Gil needs you. You have to come back for him.

Sara.

**A note**

Dear Sara,

I just wanted to apologise once more for yesterday. I truly didn't mean to scare you, or the dog. I was just worried about you.

And I know you're an adult, and I know that Hank needs walking, but you are still recovering, honey. So we can take him out together later, OK?

All my love,

Gil

**A phone call**

"Sara? Is that you?"

Silence.

"Sara, baby girl, I love you. Please don't-"

Hang up.

**A message on the answering machine**

"Sara, baby girl, it's been a month since the first phone call. And you're a bright girl, you know all about Caller ID. So you must have known I could get your number. And I waited, Sara, you remember that, I've been waiting for years for you. And you called me first. You remember that part, too. I'm reaching out, Sara, but you started it. You called me before I called-"

Message deleted.

**A to-do list**

"Buy milk,

Clean out closet,

Therapy at 10,

Feed Hank,

Feed yourself!"

And below, in Sara's chicken scratch: "Fix it."

She hadn't needed to write what 'it' was.

**A phone call**

"Sara?"

Pause. Then: "Yeah."

A sigh of relief, instantly. "Oh, thank God, baby, I was so worried! I was beginning to think you'd never call me back!"

"Mmm."

"You did, though. So what can I do for you?"

Nothing.

"Sara?"

Nothing.

"Sara, are you OK?"

Nothing.

"Sara, I love you, OK? And I know – God, you know I have to know that I let you down. Of course I do. And I've spent every day since paying for it. I missed out on so much of your life-"

"I was better off without you," Sara told her. Calmly, deliberately, without a hint of malice.

Still.

She'd said it.

"I know, baby girl. But I was better off without you, as well."

Pause.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not OK."

The moment stretches on. Hundreds of miles apart, mother and daughter listen to each other breathe, each twisting their fingers around the phone cord, so scared that speech would break this connection.

"Nor am I," Laura finally said.

"I haven't been OK for a while."

"Nor have I."

The pair are silent for a while longer. In the background, Laura hears a dog bark, and a door open. A man calls out to her daughter, in her daughter's house, a thousand miles away from her.

"I have to go," Sara says, immediately.

"I love-"

The dial tone.

**A poem**

"Clichés,

Once upon a time I uttered words

as meaningless as myself

They could only be approximations

and always of someone else's feelings

but Autumn leaves do look like carpet on the ground

and hearts can at least come close to breaking.

_(Angela McSeveney, 1992)_"

Sara closed the book of poetry. She didn't cry.

But hearts _can_ at least come close to breaking.

**A conversation**

"…And before you were kidnapped, you were happy?"

"Mmm."

"What does that mean?"

"Yes. I was happy."

"Why?"

Sara brushes her hair out of her eyes, awkward with one arm in plaster, and considers the question.

"I enjoyed my job. My personal life was- Everything was good. We had Hank, and Gil and I were living together, and it was… It was like, because they loved me, then they were pretty much the cure for everything. Like they meant that I'd never be sad again."

"So they made you happy?"

A shrug. "I guess."

"You still have your job. And you and Gil-"

"And Hank," Sara broke in helpfully.

"Yes, thank you, and Hank, are still living together."

"Yeah."

"So why aren't you happy now?"

**A letter**

Sara,

Come back. Soon.

Where the hell did you go?

Sara.

**A phone call**

"Sara, I know it's you. So why don't you just spit it out, baby girl? What do you want to say to me?"

Nothing.

"You want an apology? An explanation? You want to know why I stayed with him, why I loved him, why I killed him? You want to know?"

"No," she whispers, brokenly.

Her mother's tone changes. Soft, now, gentle. The way she used to coo over bruises and broken arms, mutter soft declarations of love into Sara's hair, soft reminders to be careful, to be a good girl, to jump through every hoop her daddy held out for her without so much a question or a funny look.

And people wonder why she has issues.

"Baby girl, it's OK, sweetheart," her mother begins.

**A flashback**

Broken arm in a sling, Sara's first, far from last.

"Baby girl, it's OK, sweetheart," her mother began. "You just need to be more careful, OK? Now try to be a good girl."

**A moment in time**

_Liar, _Sara thought, and hung up.

She sat by the phone for a moment longer, then stood up and moved to the computer. Opened up her e-mail, and stared at the screen.

Help me, she typed.

She didn't know which address to send it to, so she didn't send anything at all.

**Another moment**

"Maybe we should get married."

The pain was almost immediate.

**A phone call**

"I'm not like you," Sara said, the minute the phone was answered.

"I know," her mother says, and Sara isn't sure if it's a lie.

"I won't be like you."

"I know."

"He won't hurt me."

"I know that too."

"Right," Sara said. "Right. And I love him. And he loves me."

"I know."

"I won't hurt him," Sara says.

Her mother is silent.

"I won't."

"Baby girl, that's something I don't know."

Sara sucks in her breath sharply. "But I'm not like you."

"No, Sara, you were never like me." Laura's voice is almost wistful. "You were always the spit of your father, though."

This time when Sara hung up, she kept the phone off the hook.

**A search engine**

Help, Sara typed.

The results came back.

Thousands of hits. Shitloads of help.

Just none for Sara.

**A moment in time**

Sara opened her e-mail again, feeling stupid all the time.

"Why?" She typed into the message.

A tear rolled down the side of her nose as she entered the address: dad at heaven. com

The message: "Why?

Why won't you answer me?"

Stupid, of course, and pointless. Even if Sara believed in heaven, she wasn't sure her father had made it in there.

And as if Heaven had computers anyway.

Still.

She pressed 'Send' before she talked herself out of it.

**Another moment**

A girl collapses, a puddle of tears in front of her. Sara tries not to smile.

She won.

**A letter**

Sara

I can't do this anymore,

Sara

**A moment**

Sara wandered over to her computer and switched it on, Hank edging closer to her feet. Her hands are fidgety, still caught up with unpicking stitches and binning boots.

This will have to do.

She's left CSI, but her home would be OK. Because her mother was a liar all along.

One new message.

Sara looks at the sender carefully.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

She re-reads it. The text doesn't change.

Time seems to slow, until there is only the sound of her blood rushing to her ears, her heart pounding on the chest, Hank nudging her legs with his head and demanding attention.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

This is it.

This is the answer. Her heart seems to rise up uncontrollably; she gains a whole new understanding of the phrase 'to have your heart in your mouth', and she can't help but wonder why she's thinking of clichés when she's about to get what she needs.

The answer.

Click.

**An e-mail**

From: "DAD"

To: "Sara Sidle"

Subject: RE:Why?

Dear customer,

Thank you for taking the time to request more information on our line of 'Heaven Scent' cosmetics. Unfortunately, it seems as though we can find no record of your request on our system. I apologise for this, and urge you to retry e-mailing us concerning your query. Don't worry; all our staff are more than happy to help all our customers get the best out of our products!

Best wishes,

Danielle Alison Davies,

Head of Marketing,

Heaven Scent Cosmetics.

**An observation**

Packing takes a lot less time than you'd think.

And hearts can at least come close to breaking.

And some hearts passed 'close' a long time ago.

**A letter**

"Dear Gil,

You know I love you. I feel I've loved you forever. Lately, I haven't been feeling very well…"


End file.
